


Sun-kissed Grass and Graphite

by Actual_Trash_Can



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Artist Bill Denbrough, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Trash_Can/pseuds/Actual_Trash_Can
Summary: With Valentine's Day coming up, Bill is preparing himself to ask his best friend, Mike, to be his Valentine. But an unfortunate series of events leave things out of Bill's control.





	Sun-kissed Grass and Graphite

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a drabble for the prompt "Mike stumbles upon one of Bill's sketchbooks (maybe he left it over after a sleepover) and *a gust of wind blows it open or hey Mike Hanlon is allowed to be flawed and curious* he notices that he is unusually prominent in Bill's drawings..." from tumblr user @jacksbrak

“See you at school tomorrow! Bye guys!” Mike shouted out the door, waving cheerfully at the receding car pulling out of his driveway.

Bill and Stan had just left after spending the night on the Hanlon’s farm, which had become somewhat of a ritual over the past few months. Every Saturday the three would gather at Mike’s house in the afternoon and make their way out to the barn in the evening. They’d set up sleeping bags in the hay loft and spend the night whispering to each other between bouts of disrupted sleep. Sometimes the other losers would join, they were always invited to, but usually it was just the three of them. Bev was a girl and wasn’t allowed to sleepover with the boys, the Hanlon’s farm was too far for Eddie to sneak out to, Richie usually opted to sneak into Eddie’s room and keep him company anyway, and Ben babysat his cousins on the weekends.

Mike stretched his arms up above him, yawning as he peered out the window, looking to the barn they’d occupied last night. He decided now was as good a time as any to clean up their mess. He opened his front door, letting his dog, Mr. Chips, run out in front of him into the sun-kissed grass of the early afternoon. Mike followed Mr. Chips around for a while, watching as he stopped to smell certain spots, tail wagging when he’d find a particularly good spot of dirt to dig in. Eventually they arrived at the entrance to the barn and parted ways, Mr. Chips running off into the field as Mike made his way into the old building.

Thankfully, they hadn’t made too much of a mess the night before. Their sleeping bags and pillows were still in their spots with some garbage strewn about from when they’d eaten their weight in junk food, but all in all it wouldn’t take long to get it all together.

Mike began rolling one of the sleeping bags up when he felt something hard tucked into the Nylon. He pulled out a hardcover spiral bound sketch book, already open to a specific page.

On the paper, in light graphite scribbles, were three sketches of Mike’s sleeping form. He smiled to himself as he observed the care taken to get all his features right. He wondered how long these must have taken Bill to draw. He’d known he was talented, but not _this_  talented.

He began turning the pages mindlessly, looking over the various drawings Bill had done over the past few months. Some were abstract, some replicas of scenery around Derry, but most of them were of their group. Eddie mid laugh as Richie posed like a walrus with chopsticks in his mouth, Ben and Beverly tucked into each other on the couch, Stan lighting the menorah during Hanukkah. The intimacy of the pictures blew him away.

As he continued to observe the sketches, he started to notice how often he was featured. Most of the singular pictures were of him, and even in the group pictures, the focus always seemed to be on his form. His features would be fleshed out in detail as the rest of the Loser faded into the background.

Mike’s heart did a little somersault at the thought of Bill paying special attention to him. With an auditory gulp and shaky fingers, he flipped all the way to the end of the sketch book, stopping at the last page when something caught his eye.

The page was erupting in color, unlike the rest of the greyscale portraits that had littered the book up until then. Reds, pinks, whites, and deep purples complimented the black shapes, surrounding the portrait in hearts and question marks. It had a cartoon vibe, stylistic in its choice, but what really made his breath catch was the realization that the portrait in the middle was a picture of him and Bill. It was a recreation of a photo he recalls seeing in Bill’s bedroom, a snapshot of the two of them from when they were just 13. Below it were words that made Mike freeze.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

It was so stupidly cute Mike almost forgot to breathe. He snapped the book closed as if Bill could suddenly see through it, as if closing it meant he had time to think before he reacted.

A nudge on his leg caused Mike to jump, falling backwards onto one of the sleeping bags. He searched for the culprit and came face to face with a slobbery kiss, Mr. Chips had returned from his adventure.

Mike started laughing at himself, his laughter elevating when he thought to the absurdity of the situation. Bill wanted Mike to be his Valentine. More than that, he’d been planning on asking him with a fucking handmade Valentine.  **Stupidly cute.**

Mike sighed as he stood back up, patting the back of his pants to wipe off the dirt he’d collected from falling. He continued gathering up the things from the barn, wobbling back to his house as he tried to balanced three sleeping bags, a bag of garbage, and the most important thing he’d ever held in his hands.

 

Bill slugged towards his locker, letting himself be bumped around by the bustling teens around him. Today was Valentine’s Day. Today, he’d planned on finally confessing his feelings for his best friend. But today, his plan had been ruined when he couldn’t find his sketch book anywhere in his house. He’d finally admitted defeat when Stan had honked the horn from where he waited outside to pick Bill up for school.

When he got to his locker he slowly put in his combo, drawing out his actions as if that would make the day go by with less emotional turmoil. He opened the door, expecting to find the History text book he needed, but instead his eyes landed on a different book. A familiar book. His sketch book!

Immediately dropping his backpack to the ground, his hands shot into the locker to check if what he was seeing was real. He was sure he’d brought his sketch book home with him this weekend. He’d been using it at Mike’s, hadn’t he?

He flipped through the pages as if to prove to himself that it was really there, sighing in relief when everything seemed to be in place, everything except… the last picture. The edges of the page were torn where someone had ripped the paper out. Bill’s heart leaped into his throat at the implication.

Someone knew Bill had a crush on Mike. Someone was going to use this to blackmail him. Someone was going to-

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted his spiraling. He looked up to see Mike, leaning against the row of lockers, genuine smile and kindness in his eyes.

“You left that at my place on Saturday. I hope it’s okay, I put it back in your locker this morning.” Mike supplied.

Bill nodded slowly, his eyes unblinking and throat dry.

“Cool. Hey, do you want to hang out later? We could go get milkshakes at Ronnie’s Diner after school?” Mike asked.

“Uh, s-sure.” Bill stuttered out, his head still reeling.

“Awesome, I’ll meet you back here after school.” Mike turned to walk away, stopping after a few feet and spinning back around.

“Oh! Also, here.” Mike pulled something out of his pocket, handing it to Bill before finally disappearing down the hallway.

Bill watched as he walked away, only reverting his eyes back down to the paper in his hands when he couldn’t avoid it any longer. It was folded up, hiding the contents within, but Bill knew what it was.

Mike had found his sketch book. Mike had seen the picture, gotten weirded out, and tried to find a gentle way to let Bill down.

With a shaky breath, Bill stilled himself for the worst. He slowly peeled the folds apart, heart hammering in his chest as more and more of his drawing became visible.

Sure enough, there it was. His Valentine, with a smiling Bill and Mike staring back at him. Only there was something different about the picture, an addition that Bill hadn’t added.

Floating above Mike’s head was a little speech bubble, holding a single word.

**Yes.**

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ reddie4thesinbin.tumblr.com if you want to request any drabbles! :)


End file.
